


Careful What You Wish For

by yourpotato



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, joshler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourpotato/pseuds/yourpotato
Summary: What's more awkward than having front row tickets to your friends having sex?





	

Mark didn't think this was how he was gonna spend his Thursday evening, but here he is, snooping through Josh and Tyler's hotel room with the one and only, Brendon Urie.

"Check for condoms in the drawer!"

“How did you even get the key?"

"Irrelevant.”

Mark sighs and does as told, shuffling over the carpeted floor towards the bedside drawer. He pulls it open and is disappointed at what he sees: a package of Oreos that one of them is clearly hiding from the other, a pair of sunglasses and a notebook.

"No condoms, man."

He turns to see Brendon squatting over an open suitcase, eyeing the clothes.

"We can't go through their stuff!"

“I'm not! I'm just observing," the singer defends and stands up again, looking around the room. "There has to be some sort of proof in here."

"They're not screwing each other," Mark groans and runs a hand over his face.

"Yes, they are."

Brendon steps up to the bed, lifting one of the pillows. "Where the fuck to they keep their condoms and all that shit?" he wonders under his breath.

"Dude. Let's go," Mark tries again.

"C'mon! You seriously don't wanna find out if they're banging?" Brendon asks and raises his brows.

The blue-eyed man shrugs. "I mean... I guess, but not like this."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"We could just... ask."

"Hey guys, dope show tonight! By the way, are you fucking?"

"Does sound like something you'd say."

Brendon rolls his eyes. "Help me look, Eshleman."

Mark sighs in defeat and decides to go along with the singer’s immoral plan. He goes to check under the other pillow on the double bed when he hears voices down the hallway. "Is that-"

"Fuck, it's them," Brendon looks like a deer in the headlights as he glances towards the door.

"What do we do?!" Mark whispers, his eyes darting around for a possible escape route.

"Get under the bed!"

He turns back to the singer and sees that he's halfway under the big bed already.

"We can't fit under there!"

"The fuck we can," Brendon proclaims as he disappears out of sight. "It's fine, there’s plenty of space down here. Hurry!"

Mark looks at the door, hearing footsteps stop right outside. "Shit," he breathes and drops to the floor, quickly crawling under the bed. He rolls onto his back once he's next to Brendon, staring up at the mattress above them.

The door opens.

"Did we leave the lights on?" Tyler's confused voice sounds.

"Maybe the maid was here," Josh replies, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the mini fridge. "D'you want something to drink?"

"Capri-Sun."

Mark tilts his head to the side, seeing as Josh's legs come to a halt in front of the fridge. He squats down and opens the door to fetch the refreshments.

"What the hell do we do?" Mark whispers once he's turned his face back towards Brendon, who offers a half-shrug in response. "God knows how long we'll be stuck here.”

"I don't fuckin' know-"

"Well, figure it out! This was your idea," he shoots back, heart beating faster with each passing second.

They hear the TV getting turned on, and the quiet buzz of a foreign language fills the room.

"Awesome, a Korean news channel. Just what I wanted," Tyler deadpans, making Josh laugh.

"Here, man," the drummer speaks up and tosses him a Capri-Sun.

"Thanks," Tyler mumbles and steps towards the bed. Mark's eyes widen as he climbs onto the sheets and pats the spot next to him. "C'mere."

Mark can hear Brendon swallow as Josh gets on the bed as well.

"Okay, I have a plan," Brendon states as quietly as he can once the two men on the bed start a conversation about god knows what. "Get your phone out and like… text one of them. Say that you need to see them or something."

"My phone’s in my room!" he hisses.

"Fuck, uh- okay, we'll use mine, but it's about to die."

"Whatever, just hurry plea-" Mark cuts himself off as he hears a strange sound from above. A kiss.

"Dude," Brendon whispers, eyes wide and a grin of disbelief on his face. "I fuckin' knew it."

The sound of bodies moving atop the sheets meets their ears. The kiss breaks and a sharp inhale follows.

"Josh," Tyler breathes.

"Mhm?”

The songwriter mumbles something inaudible.

Lips meet again, more persistent this time.

"Text them," Mark demands. "Now."

"Shit, right," Brendon nods and reaches into the pockets of his jeans, fishing out his phone. He makes sure it's on mute before unlocking it. He types out a quick message and sends it to Josh, squinting against the bright screen.

The men under the bed stare at each other as they wait for a phone to beep, and the thirty seconds seem to drag on for hours. Tyler and Josh are shuffling around quite a bit, mouths still connected.

A moan sounds through the room.

Then the awaited beep comes from the nightstand.

"Ignore it," Tyler's quiet voice says.

"No, no, no," Mark begs under his breath. "Please don't."

Neither man reaches out for the phone. Wet kisses resume.

"Fuck, I'm sending another one," Brendon says and starts writing. Another moan comes out of Tyler's mouth, louder and breathier than before. Mark's stomach twists.

"You like that?" Josh murmurs. Brendon's eyes snap to the filmmaker's.

The phone beeps again.

Tyler only whines in response to Josh's words, both of them ignoring the incoming texts.

"Try- Try spamming," Mark suggests and squeezes his eyes shut. Brendon starts hurriedly tapping the keyboard. The lip lock stops for a moment before a shirt falls to the floor next to Mark's face.

"Shit, no, no, no," the singer curses.

"What?"

"It's dead," he sighs and holds up the black screen for Mark to see.

"Oh, fuck me," Mark shakes his head in disbelief.

"Fuck me."

Time seems to stop as they hear Tyler speak up again.

Another shirt hits the ground, this time on Brendon's side. A belt is being undone.

"Is this proof enough for you?" Mark snaps at his friend, sweat starting to run down his face.

"Pete owes me 50," Brendon states.

"You've bet on this shit?!"

"Yeah. And I just made 50 bucks."

A wet sucking can be heard from above.

"Sweet Jesus, please say that's a hickey in the making," Mark reaches up to cover his burning face.

"Fuck, Josh," Tyler groans. "Just like that."

"I don't think so," Brendon whispers back in defeat. Nosy as he is, he doesn't want a front row seat to his friends banging.

A pop echoes through the hotel suite, followed by a tiny kiss.

"Did you just kiss my dick?" Tyler asks, amusement in his voice.

"It was just down my throat," Josh points out. Another kiss. "And yes, I did."

Mark wants to die. He wants the floor to open up and let him free fall from the ninth floor and right into the lobby. Some shuffling and another zipper being opened later, their pants are discarded onto the floor, underwear in tow.

"I fucking hate you."

"Shut up, Eshleman."

"D'you have a condom?" Tyler asks.

"Uh, right," Josh hums and reaches off the bed, dangling his hand right next to Brendon's face. He grabs onto the black jeans and clumsily tries to get something out of the pocket. A silver packet slips out of the fabric and onto the floor. Brendon swallows dryly as he eyes the condom. "C'mon," Josh sighs and shuffles closer to the edge of the bed. He blindly reaches out and picks up the packet, coming dangerously close to touching his good friend who is hiding under his bed.

“Shit, Brendon, I don’t wanna fucking hear this.”

“I think we just have to ride it out, man,” the singer sighs quietly and closes his eyes. “Plug your ears or somethin.”

Mark does, and follows Brendon’s lead of shutting his eyes. He thinks about how he’s gonna look the duo in the eyes later, and if he’ll be able to keep this a secret until his dying day, cause by God, he does not want to speak of this ever again. He hears muffled voices from above, but he luckily can’t make out the words.

Brendon shifts next to him, bumping their shoulders together. The filmmaker glances over at him with a questioning gaze. “What?” He mouths and unplugs his ears.

“Joseph’s got a dirty fucking mouth on him,” Brendon tells, eyes wide.

“Fuck me,” a moan sounds. “Fuck, fuck- _Josh_.”

Mark's mouth drops open. The sound of skin slapping together mixed with the bed gently thumping against the wall makes his head spin. He cannot believe he’s here to witness this. All because of Brendon Urie’s over-the-top curiosity.

“God, you love this don’t you?” Josh groans under his breath.

“Please- Harder,” Tyler whines. Josh’s hips speed up. “Fuck me so good.”

Mark vigorously shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as Brendon covers his mouth to keep from shrieking and laughing all at once. The mattress creaks, the bedpost knocks against the wall, Mark prays to any God that might hear him through the noise.

“Such a good boy,” the drummer praises.

The younger of the two moans brokenly in response, understandably at a loss for words.

“This is the worst day of my life,” Mark complains.

“If they figure out we’re hanging out under here, it’ll be worse for them. They’ll be mortified.”

“ _I’m_ mortified,” he shoots back.

“Josh, I- I’m gonna- I’m so close-”

“Come for me, baby,” Josh coos softly.

 _Please fuckin do_ , Mark thinks. _The sooner the better._

Another string of moans and profanities echo through the room before the movements above them start to still. Heavy breathing and two bodies falling onto the sheets follows. Mark moves his eyes over to Brendon, whose face is flushed and sweaty, much like his own. He supposes that’s what Tyler and Josh look like as well.

“That was so great, man,” Tyler chuckles breathily.

“I love hotel nights,” Josh adds. They kiss briefly. “Love you.”

Mark quirks a tiny smile. Oddly enough, a warm feeling is looming in his chest.

“Love you too.”

There’s silence for a little while, and the two under the bed are starting to wonder if the lovers have fallen asleep.

“I’m too scared to move,” Brendon breathes.

“Did you hear that?” Josh asks then, startling the hiding men. Their eyes meet, wide as dinner plates.

“What?” Tyler mumbles sleepily.

A tattooed arm reaches off the bed and towards the nightstand, grabbing a phone. “My stomach is screaming for somethin’ to eat,” the yellow-haired man chuckles. “Wanna order room service?”

“Go ahead, man. I’m too tired.”

“Alright- I’ve got a bunch of weird texts from Brendon.”

“What’s he say?”

“I don’t even know,” Josh replies, a frown in his voice. “It’s gibberish. _Meat in the lobotomy asap_.”

Mark raises a judging brow at the brunette next to him, who bites his lip and shrugs.

“ _Pleasant come right not_.”

Tyler snorts. “He’s probably drunk. Just ignore him.”

“Oh, I wish I fuckin’ was,” Brendon mumbles.

A few minutes pass while Josh ponders about what to order, before he places the phone back where he found it. “I’m taking a shower first,” he whispers. He receives a hum in response. “You’re really exhausted aren’t you?”

Another hum.

They hear the sound of skin caressing skin. Then three small kisses. “Go to sleep, Tyler. It’s okay. I’ll be quiet.”

“Thank you,” the singer breathes, clearly half asleep already. Josh lets out a fond chuckle before swinging his feet off the bed by Brendon’s face. He stands and silently makes his way to the bathroom. As soon as the door closes and the shower starts running, the two intruders nod at each other.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Brendon whispers. “Tyler’s a heavy sleeper.”

Mark simply crawls out from under the bed, ready for all of it to be over. He let’s out a shaky breath as he sees Tyler lying halfway under the white sheets, dead to the world. He sees Brendon studying the singer’s body for a moment, tilting his head.

“Don’t look at him like that! Let’s just get out,” Mark scolds and gestures towards the door – their escape route.

“Right, sorry,” the brown-eyed man hurries over to him, and they tiptoe past the bathroom door and manage to get outside. Brendon carefully shuts the door behind them, making as little noise as he possibly can. When it falls shut, both of them inhale sharply, finally being able to breathe without restricting themselves.

“Jesus Christ,” Brendon says, running a hand through his hair as they start making their way towards the elevator. “That’s the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in.”

“That makes two of us,” Mark sighs heavily and glances over at his friend. “ _Pleasant come right not_?” he wonders after a moment.

“Oh, right, like you could work under that kind of pressure,” the man defends, earning a chuckle. And then another. Then a laugh.

Before they know it, the two of them are hunched over with tears rolling down their faces, laughter echoing through the hall as they realize how ridiculous the whole incident was.

“You really should be careful what you wish for,” Mark wheezes, clutching at his chest.

“Shut the fuck up, Eshleman.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for fOUR YEARS, because i once went to a hotel where there was so much space under the bed it was really strange. 
> 
> thanks for reading ily


End file.
